


All Night, No Sleep

by RosVailintin



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boy Band, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Bars and Pubs, Based on a The Vamps Song, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, First Kiss, Flirting, Kissing, M/M, Song Parody, Sorry Not Sorry, Underage Drinking, a little bit of sons of an illustrious father reference because ezra miller as barry allen, before barry allen becomes the flash, by request, i love the vamps too much, i've been watching tradley too much, parody of last night by the vamps, so flashsilver is becoming a bit tradley-ish, this may be the sweetest thing i have ever written in my entire 19 years' life, this may look a bit like giulio & tommaso s1e1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 11:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9819113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosVailintin/pseuds/RosVailintin
Summary: For the first time of his life, he ever has the special feeling that he likes the young man in front of him. Gazing into the large hazel eyes, he feels his cheeks burning, but he doesn't want to look away. The volume is rising, every beat clearer, the air boiling. His arms tighten around Peter's waist, and not thinking more, he shuts his eyes and closes the gap.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mionemrys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mionemrys/gifts), [sszdyl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sszdyl/gifts).



> This one is finally coming together...Had this idea a few months ago; just suddenly wanted to write a Flashsilver fic when talking with Hermione about Nightangel (interesting that in fact I've always been pretty into Nightangel but I haven't yet written anything about them lol). Anyways...Ezra Miller as Barry Allen as I said in the tag, and Evan Peters as Peter Maximoff. The time is set when they were both teenagers and Barry was only about 18 or so, and Peter is 5 years older than him. Yeah this is the actual age difference between Ez and Evan, which is so cute! And in the AU Barry is in a band (Ez is the drummer and one of the lead singers in Sons of an Illustrious Father and they're so damn cool, and this is also the reason why I say in this fic Barry/Peter will look a bit like Tradley in the Vamps, because Tris is the drummer in the Vamps and Brad is the lead singer and these two are just goals) and they do Friday nights at some bar (randomly picked Bar Nine, but never been there and writing with Google Map so don't really believe in what I say). Peter...well, Peter's mutant so he's already got the speed.  
> Been a long time since I last wrote in third person. Originally decided POV Peter Maximoff but then I was reminded that Peter actually sees everything in slow motion, so I just give up.  
> Title from the Vamps ft Matoma _All Night_.  
>  Since somebody wants so much a sweet plot and a happy ending here we go.  
> Oh and a quick note, listen to _Beat of My Drum_ by POWERS when reading this will be really funny.

We were victims of the night, the chemical, physical, kryptonite, helpless to the bass and the fading light.

\- Walk The Moon·Shut Up And Dance

* * *

Barry grabs his bag and strides out of the classroom the moment the bell rings. Hurrying down the endless stairs, he runs a hand though his dark curly hair. It has taken him a good year to grow them to this length and thickness, and there is no way that he takes a haircut, whatever people say. What does HIS hairstyle have to do with THEM? He follows the flow of students walking out of the school gate, impatiently brushing past the ones who are wandering leisurely, getting a lot of stares on the way. Not that he cares. He hops on the bike and ride in full speed, the sweet breeze on this April twilight embracing him, pulling at his hair and leather jacket. He stops pedalling and let the bike run on inertia, stretching his body lazily. One right turn to go.

'Aye!' Barry screams squeezing the brakes to death as a guy suddenly appears in front of his wheel, 'Watch where you're going!' The young man somehow didn't get hit, and is staring at Barry with wide hazel eyes. Frowning, Barry pulls up beside the door of Bar Nine and heads straight in.

It's Friday. Lights are on, misty and warm; people have begun gathering up here and there in the bar, filling the space with blurry noises of talking and laughing. Barry passes the tables and walks behind the stage. Their regular Friday night gig begins in half an hour, and this is his favourite part of the whole week. He stands in front of the large mirror appreciating his outfit for this day - he is wearing one of his best tees with leopard print on the right half, and he has got a pair of skinny jet black ripped jeans on to match the shiny black jacket and the fancy wedge bootie of two inches high. The rivets on the shoulders of the jacket is glittering under the light, contrasting his long dark hair. Barry pulls a smug smile.

Lights change, and the crowd start to applaud and whistle. Peter takes another sip of the Irish Car Bomb, keeping his eyes on the band. He is not in his regular seat close to the stage, since he almost crashed with the drummer's bike just half an hour ago, plus he didn't even apologise. Though having been hoping to meet the drummer boy offstage some day for quite a long time, he never expected it to come true this way. This tall, slim young lad with an angular visage swaying his long black curly hair on stage while smashing the drums in light speed, he is amazing, thinks Peter. This boy may not have even reached the age to drink, but he is doing what he loves in this little band and earning money to buy new sticks, while Peter himself is already in his mid-twenties and still complaining about his boring life and this way too slow world.

Rocking slightly to the beat of the drum, he hums along with the tunes as he always and naturally does every Friday evening. He knows almost every song they do, and they're always his favourites; that is part of the motivation for him to be there at this time each week no matter what. The air is getting hot, joyful people singing and dancing everywhere around him, pink and yellow lights on the stage alternating with the lively rhyme. The lead singer jumps off the stage and climbs onto an empty table, the heels of her platform pump knocking crisply at the surface. Peter never has any idea how these girls can even walk in that kind of shoes.

'Barry Allen everyone!' She shouts at the end of the refrain, turning to the drummer boy, holding her hands up high and clapping to the beat. Barry roars, speeding up as the crowd continues to cheer louder. He raises his head up and throw back the long hair around his shoulders, stamping on the pedal fast and hard. He can barely see the movements of his own hands clearly, not that he needs to; simply listening to every hit coming from the tip of the sticks is enough for him to decide where to strike next. Sweat starts to soak the back of his tee, a few blocks of his hair are wet and sticking around his neck. He lifts his right hand and throws the stick high up, making it somersault, and catch it right before he needs it for another blow at the ride cymbal. From the corner of his eyes, he sees smiling faces and dancing bodies moving in the changing lights. He rises from the seat, pointing the sticks at the ceiling, his eyes skimming over their audience, a grin across his lips.

Then he sees Peter. Peter feels his gaze fixing on him for a short while before moving on. He drinks down the bottom of the shot.

The boy has beautiful, smiling brown eyes.

As soon as the band give their last bow and return behind the 'BAR NINE' signboard, Peter pushes through the crowd, mumbling 'excuse me' to almost everyone he passes, to make it to the side of the stage where he knows the band will leave from. Heart beating fast and loudly, he looks around, hoping that he doesn't seem too much like a massive fanboy waiting to get an autograph and selfie.

'Hey man?' Peter almost jumps at the voice. The lead singer is staring at him with great curiosity, 'You okay?'

'Um...I, well,' he is swearing in his mind, but manages a smile that he wishes doesn't look very creepy, 'can I see Barry? I've got something to tell him.'

The girl raises an eyebrow, her hands in the pocket of the washed denim coat, 'He knows you?'

'Sort of, yeah.' Peter looks away, 'We just met outside the bar before the show.'

'Okay then.' She shrugs, and walks off to one of the dressing rooms and knocks on the door, 'Barry? A guy wanna talk to you.' Barry says something behind the door, and she goes, 'He said he met you just before this gig, outside the bar.' After leaning against the door listening for another few seconds, she turns to Peter, 'Yeah, he says he knows you. But uh...' She glances at the lock, 'You've probably gotta wait for some time because he's always super slow and none of us ever wait for him to come out.'

Isn't this world already slow enough, Peter thinks.

'Or you can just go in.' She continues, 'There's only him now anyway. Just, if you're sure he's not gonna be mad at you. I gotta be off, so good luck.' She winks, and hurries towards the exit.

The next show will start in 15 minutes, which is, thank god, Peter thinks, the time he will have to wait at most. Sometimes he really hates this superpower; it makes everything go in slow motion in his eyes, not to mention that it was because he travelled too fast that Barry didn't see him before taking the turn. 'I should say sorry first,' Peter whispers to himself, 'and then if he doesn't wanna go on with the conversation I'll just go.' He is suddenly getting nervous, and the longer he waits, the more anxious he becomes. He feels like people are staring at him, and he fears that someone will come up and ask what he's doing here. He leans back against the wall and stretches his neck, letting out a sigh.

He hears the sound of the handle.

Peter jumps up and turns around, just in time to meet the boy's eyes. For a moment, neither of them speaks a word. Then a smile appears across Barry's lips as he says, 'Is it you? You wanna talk?'

'Oh, oh um, yeah.' Peter subconsciously places a hand on the back of his neck. He notices that the boy has put on a new black tee with glitters.

He takes a deep breath in, ready to begin the apology, when he feels Barry's hand on his back, 'We can't talk here; the next guy is coming.'

The boy throws his bag onto the shoulder and leads Peter to a relatively quiet corner of the bar, getting himself a Andechser Doppelbock Dunkel on the way.

'So,' he drops the bag on the floor and takes a sip of the beer, 'what do you wanna say?'

'Look,' Peter uneasily twines his fingers together, 'about what happened before the show...I almost crashed with you when I was crossing the road, so here's a sorry.'

Barry stares at him, slightly confused, 'That's all?'

'Really sorry that I didn't say anything when you asked me to watch where I was going so I think I should at least apologise for that.' He utters the sentence all at once so fast Barry cannot really catch up.

'No, I mean,' he shuts his eyes and reopens them, 'you waited there for me just because of this?'

'Uh...mostly?' Peter chuckles awkwardly.

'Oh, man,' Barry begins laughing, putting the beer on the bar so he doesn't spill it over, 'you don't really think I'll mind, do you?'

Peter raises a brow, 'Well, I mind.'

'Nah, forget about it.' Barry takes another sip of the beer. 'Oh,' he suddenly goes, 'you want something to drink? I know you've had one but...'

'Nay,' Peter shrugs, 'but thanks for asking.' The boy's cheeks are turning to a rosy colour under the effect of alcohol. 'But say,' he goes on, noticing the badge of Manhattan Bridges High School on Barry's bag, 'how did he give you this?' He raises his chin towards the beer.

Barry looks away, pouting a little. 'I know it's bad, right?' With this, he takes another large shot, 'It's just once a week and I don't drink this every time - I mean this strong, even though it's only 7%.'

Peter rolls his eyes.

'This is really good, you know.' Barry continues, 'It's the best stuff from the Klosterbrauerei Andechs. They make the top Andechser beers in the world and this one, the Andechser Doppelbock Dunkel, is the top of them.' His thick curly hair quiver with his movement as he speaks excitedly.

'I'm not your dad so I'm not gonna educate you anyway.'

Barry giggles. 'Say,' he changes the topic, 'what did the Queen say to you when you were waiting? I know she ain't gonna say nice things about me.' Seeing the confused look on Peter's face, he adds, 'That's what we call our lead singer. She really likes that.'

'It's not so not nice.' This sentence is so weird, Peter thinks. 'She just said you're super slow and they never waited for you.'

Barry purses his lips up and takes a drink of the beer he regards as the best in the world. 'You should try this.' He raises the glass.

'I'm drinking too much tonight.' Peter doesn't really know why he refuses. They are both quiet for a brief moment before he starts off again, 'Did you recognise me on stage?'

'Hmm?' Barry leans in a little.

'I said did you recognise me when you were on stage.'

'Oh,' the boy smiles, turning away, 'yeah, I did.'

'I don't usually sit there.' Peter points him the seat he would take every Friday evening, 'That's my favourite place, and I'm here every Friday night.'

'Just Fridays?' Barry frowns.

'Yeah, just Fridays.'

Barry nods slowly, taking a few sips of the beer. 'Is it because - I mean, you're not just here to watch us, right?'

'Well, why not?' Peter tilts his head.

The rosy colour on the boy's cheeks becomes brighter.

The DJ on stage is getting ready, and people are standing up from their seats again. 'C'mon, this lad is pretty good.' Barry takes Peter's wrist and pulls him closer to the stage, leaving the beer on the bar.

Peter watches the boy dancing to the music, singing along when he knows the tunes. His tall, slender figure stands out easily in the crowd. Soft glow from the warm lighting illuminates his visage from every angle, shadows changing to highlights and highlights darkening to shadows, a content beam on his pink lips. Long dark hair drape around his shoulders freely, swaying with his every move. The loose black tee he's wearing glitters, the shape of his body only just visible beneath the fabric.

'You don't dance?' Barry touches Peter with an elbow, making the latter come back from his thoughts.

As a drummer, Barry has always been very sensitive with beats. He has turned to face Peter, hitting the floor to the rhyme with his heels. Peter catches up with him; everyone is moving around them, making the space crowded, and their bodies are touching again and again. The smell of cologne and sweat fills the gap between them, and they can feel the hot breath of each other on them. Hearts are pulsing fast, skin is burning. Peter looks up, and sees the deep flush under Barry's cheekbones, his sharp jawline outlined by the contrast of lights and shadows.

Almost impulsively, Peter puts his arms around the neck of the younger boy, his fingers sinking in the thick curly hair. By the time he realises what he is doing, Barry gives him a sign of acceptance by holding him by the waist. Their faces are only inches away, foreheads nearly touching. Barry feels like he is drowning in heat, electricity travelling down his spine and spreading to the end of every vein. He has probably drunk too much. He fixes his eyes on Peter's, and he sees himself in them. For the first time of his life, he ever has the special feeling that he likes the young man in front of him. Gazing into the large hazel eyes, he feels his cheeks burning, but he doesn't want to look away. The volume is rising, every beat clearer, the air boiling. His arms tighten around Peter's waist, and not thinking more, he shuts his eyes and closes the gap.

The boy's lips feel so different. They are soft, and the taste is something both sweet and bitter at the same time. Rather than not getting rejected, he is honestly more surprised that he did it. He kissed a guy. And he's enjoying it. The kiss is not so passionate, but slow and gentle; their breaths twine together, the feeling of the skin of one another vague through the fabrics. Hesitatingly, Barry pulls away a little, inhaling deeply, the touch of the other man's lips still lingering.

'Hey,' Barry whispers, sight misty, 'I don't even know your name.'

'Peter,' the voice is low and husky, 'Peter Maximoff.'

The boy stares him in the eye for a short while before saying, 'Why haven't I noticed you earlier, Peter?'

The response he gets is a wide smile and another kiss. Barry leans in and kisses back, pushing away a block of his blond hair from his face with one hand. He lets Peter's tongue slide in, feeling the fingers fiddling with the curls of his hair. He hears the watery sound between them, their accelerating breaths, his own heartbeat, and the blurry music with the noise of people's talking, laughing and cheering as its background.

Until Barry has to break the contact again to gasp for oxygen. He doesn't understand why these kisses are making him so breathless. He presses their foreheads together, 'How long can you stay, Peter?'

'Don't ask.'

Over his shoulder, he sees the warm glow of the streetlamps outside, starlight far away above the horizon. No one's going home tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my this is too sweet. Hermione helped me with the ending so a shoutout once again! She actually initially suggested that Barry and Peter left the pub and walked together under the streetlights, slightly tipsy and holding each other up. But then since this whole scene is indoor, she came up with the starlight outside the window so there it is. The last sentence is a line from _Last Night_ by the Vamps. And it's not too Tradley right? Tris is definitely much more...I don't know, funny / weird / whatever than Barry? So is Brad than Peter? So that's why Tradley is just...savage (if I remember right James Paxton is really expert in using this word so here it is). Well anyway 2:35am so I should be off. Hope you enjoyed this little thing!  
>  Beta'd on 19 Feb 2017.


End file.
